


The Halloween Affair

by alynwa



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2543981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for Glennagirl for the LJ Halloween 2014 Challenge.  Illya and Napoleon are meeting a THRUSH defector.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Halloween Affair

“ _AHHHHH! Dyerʐityesʲ podalʲshye ot myenya! Spravka! SPRAVKA! (Stay away from me! Help! HELP!”_

Napoleon shot straight up from a dead sleep, gun in hand, fear and anger warring within him at the idea that someone had bypassed the alarms they had placed in their hotel room and was attacking his partner who was sleeping in the other bed. He barely registered by the moonlight shining in that Illya was also sitting upright though he had not pulled his Walther from underneath his pillow. His breathing was shallow and panic filled as he put a shaky hand to his forehead.

“Illya, what is it?” he asked as he reached for the lamp. The sudden brightness caused both men to blink rapidly. “You were screaming at the top of your lungs. It’s a wonder no one is banging on the door.”

The Russian got up quickly and went into the bathroom. Napoleon could hear him relieving himself, flushing the toilet and running the water in the sink. He came out and sat on the foot of Napoleon’s bed. “A…creature was after me. I could hear rustling, like leaves blowing in a hard wind. I could feel the breeze as it just missed grabbing me. I was running, but going nowhere and it was getting closer. I was afraid to look over my shoulder.” He shuddered visibly. “I am sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“’S okay. We don’t have to be out early.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his thighs and his chin on his clasped hands. “Do you remember anything else?”

“Only that I was in the woods, walking along a dirt road or trail and the sky was maybe cloudy or maybe the sun was setting. I do not know. Whatever it was, it was big. And… _hungry._ ”

Napoleon replaced his gun under his pillow and checked the time. “It’s four o’clock. We don’t have to meet our contact until ten. Get some rest.” He noticed the blond look apprehensively at his bed and knew the nightmare had really rattled him. “Or would you rather stay awake? I’ll keep you company. We can go over our notes. He yawned mightily and stretched. “Or you can just share my bed.” He grinned to lighten the mood. “I promise I won’t tell anyone I had to protect you from a bad dream.”

Illya growled in annoyance, but lifted the covers of Napoleon’s bed as the CEA slid over to give him room. “I am grateful that, for once, our room has two full size beds. Good night.” After Napoleon turned off the lamp, Illya felt him move closer until they were back to back. Comforted, he murmured, “Thank you” before drifting off to sleep.

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Ten AM found the two agents waiting at a roadside diner somewhere along Route 1803 approximately halfway between Elk City and the Nez Perce National Forest in Idaho. They ordered breakfast at the counter and then walked to a table toward the back more out of habit than an ability to go unnoticed. The place was so small that anyone walking in could see every table easily though the seats they chose put solid wood walls behind both of them.

There was absolutely nothing fancy about Dave’s Diner. Wooden tables and chairs, wood floors and walls, an overhead chandelier in the middle of the room made of deer antlers and one waitress in a white polo shirt and jeans. She brought over their coffee and food on a large tray when the cook (presumably Dave) slapped two plates on the counter. Both men, neither of whom were expecting much, were pleased at how good everything looked.

“This waffle is excellent,” Illya managed to say before tucking into it like he wouldn’t see food again for awhile.

Napoleon grunted in agreement and most of the meal disappeared in silence. The CEA ate slightly slower than his partner and when he had pushed back that initial pang of hunger, he sipped some coffee and asked, “How are you feeling? Anymore bad dreams?”

Illya shook his head rapidly as he bit into a piece of bacon. “No, but…I have a feeling of,” he waved his fork as he thought, “of dread. Maybe it has to do with the contact. Tiberius Reynolds was the head of THRUSH’s satrap in Boise. Intel says he was a candidate for the Central Committee. They cannot be happy that he is defecting with all the information about his satrap’s plans and its financial records.”

“I’m sure they’re not, but this really should be a piece of cake. All we have to do is take him from here to the LA office and then head back to New York with the documents while our people in California create his new identity.”

“It might have been, but now I am sure you have just jinxed it. Blockhead,” the Russian mumbled sullenly as he shoveled eggs into his mouth.

“Oh, I know what your problem is!” Napoleon exclaimed as he snapped his fingers. “Tomorrow is Halloween; you’re letting your Gypsy blood run away with you. Superstitions and a bad dream are your ways of acknowledging it. Just get over it. By this time tomorrow, we’ll be on our way back to New York.”

The waitress came back to refill their coffee cups just as the wall phone started ringing. “I got it, Dave!” she yelled as she turned toward the sound. “Hello, Dave’s Diner,” she said after putting the receiver on her shoulder and raising it to her ear. “Yeah, hi, Ty. Hold on.” She looked at Illya and Napoleon. “Is one of you named Napoleon?” At Napoleon’s nod, she said, “You got a phone call.”

Napoleon pasted a smile on his face as he rose from his seat to take the phone from her hand even as his heart sank. “Thank you,” he said as he placed it to his ear. “Hello? Yes. When? No, I don’t care for it, but…Fine. It’s tomorrow or nothing.” He hung up and went back to the table. “Reynolds said there was a problem on his side and he wants to push his defection back to tomorrow. He wants us to meet him at a campsite down this road two miles inside the Nez Perce National Forest. I told him if he can’t make it, forget it.”

“Miss?” Illya called to the waitress, “Could we have four roast beef heroes with mustard, lettuce and tomatoes to go and the check? Thank you.” In a quieter tone he said to Napoleon, “I think we should keep a low profile and stay in our room as long as we can.”

“Sounds good to me. I would prefer to conclude this affair today, but since we can’t, I’m not going to complain about having a day to rest and relax.”

The sandwiches were brought to them in a small shopping bag. , “I didn’t know you were friends with Ty!” the waitress said. “Consider the coffees on the house and I put some fresh brownies in the bag. Dave made ‘em this morning.”

Napoleon thanked her and he and Illya left the money on top of the check with a generous tip. They walked out toward their rental with the Russian muttering about “jinxes” and “blockheads.” Napoleon ignored him until Illya had started the car and they were on their way back to the Elk City Hotel.

“What is going on with you, Tovarisch? Reynolds told me that his secretary had scheduled a conference call that he couldn’t miss. Things change; you know that. He can’t afford to raise any suspicions.”

The Russian set his mouth into a grim line. He grunted and concentrated on the road. He was loathe to tell Napoleon he had a bad feeling about this entire affair.

 _He and Napoleon were walking down an old dirt road in a forest. There was someone or something behind them so they were compelled to move forward. They walked around a curve and he saw a tree on the left. It still retained most of its leaves though it was late October. As they approached, Illya realized with growing horror that the tree seemed to have a_ face! _The mouth was gaping open below an almost aquiline nose, two eyes were staring at them and what he had thought were branches were arms raised as if to strike. He began to hang back while reaching for Napoleon’s arm to slow him. As he opened his mouth to voice a warning, a growl from behind them made Napoleon grab his hand and start to run down the path towards the tree. “Come on, Illya! We’ll be safe!”_

_“No!” he screamed, “Look at the tree! It’s a monster!”_

_“Death is behind us! Keep moving forward! Come on!”_

_As if to illustrate Napoleon’s point, snarls and snapping teeth sounds came from so close behind that the Russian knew what chased them had found them. Terror pushed the two men forward as Illya screamed, “Do not stop! Bozhe moy! Bozhe…”_

“Illya, wake up! For the love of God, what’s wrong?”

Illya’s eyes popped open and he looked around wildly for a moment before reality took hold of him. He was lying on his bed. _My bed in the Elk City Hotel._ He saw that his partner was staring at him from where he sat in a recliner, magazine forgotten in his lap. “I am sorry, Napoleon. I know I startled you.”

“Nevermind that. Was it the same dream from this morning?”

“Yes. No. It was different. You were there. The road was the same. There was a tree…It is silly. I am fine.” He smiled in an attempt to get the concerned look off Napoleon’s face. “That is what I get for eating an entire roast beef sandwich and three brownies and drowning it all with two Cokes before taking a nap.”

Napoleon grabbed the magazine on his lap and said, “I don’t know whether to tell you this or not, but here goes: According to this article about the Nez Perce National Forest, the Nez Perce tribal legends say that spirits inherit many of the trees where we’ll be. Maybe you read that someplace and it’s affecting your dreams.”

“Perhaps,” the Russian agreed quickly rather than remind Napoleon that there had been no plan to go to the National Forest until Reynolds changed the meeting place. _And I would have remembered reading about those legends. If I were having this discussion with Svetlana* she would probably say it is my Gypsy blood trying to tell me something._

Napoleon flipped the magazine onto the table. “Now that you’re awake, turn the TV on. We’re meeting Reynolds at seven in the morning. I want to leave no later than six – fifteen. It’s only fourteen miles to the park itself and maybe another mile inside to the meeting place.”

Illya nodded. “We should pack the car so that we can leave straight from there; it is eighty – one miles to Lewiston – Nez Perce County Airport. I will feel much better once we are out of this area and our mission is complete.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Partner Mine.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

The next morning, they left the Elk City Hotel to head out to meet Tiberius Reynolds. They didn’t pass one car on the way which was not surprising as the general area is not very populated. Illya was behind the wheel and concentrating on the road. He hadn’t told Napoleon that he had another bad dream and had forced himself awake before it got really bad. _I have to focus; I cannot allow this foolishness to interfere with what I have to do._

Napoleon, for his part, was checking the map of the park. “We should probably walk to the meeting site. I think hearing a car coming is too much of a heads up for our guy, especially if he’s being watched.” When the Russian simply grunted in acknowledgement, he put the map down and gazed out at the lightening sky. _It’s going to be cloudy._

They entered the park and bypassed the parking lot; opting instead to pull into a space between some trees and camouflage it with branches. They began walking farther into the park toward a cave Reynolds had chosen for them to meet. Twenty minutes later, they stepped into a clearing. A man sat just outside the opening of a cave with a briefcase at his side. “Tiberius Reynolds, I presume?” Napoleon queried. At the man’s nod he said, “I’m Napoleon Solo and this is my partner, Illya Kuryakin. Do you have the documents?”

Reynolds patted the briefcase beside him. “I do, indeed,” he answered.

Illya had entered the clearing about six feet away from Napoleon with his gun down by his leg. He was feeling tense and uneasy. “What is in the cave, Reynolds?” he demanded.

“Nothing at all,” was the reply, “You can go in to look if you want.”

The Russian was debating whether to do that or not when Napoleon said, “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Good idea,” Reynolds agreed, “Did you enter the park from the main entrance?” When Napoleon nodded he said, “There is another road out of here that very few people use. I think we should go that way. Is your car in the lot?”

“No, it’s hidden about twenty minutes or so from here. Let’s go.” The CEA turned and began to head back to the car. Illya inclined his head to indicate that Reynolds follow Napoleon and he brought up the rear.

They walked silently single file back toward the car. They were almost there when Napoleon stopped in his tracks and pulled his weapon. Illya pulled his in response and pushed Reynolds to the ground.

“What’s happening?” Reynolds said as he clutched the briefcase to his chest and cowered next to a bush.

“Be quiet!” the Russian hissed as he and Napoleon looked around. He hadn’t heard anything, but he trusted that his partner did. He was just about to suggest they keep moving when he saw sunlight reflect off metal approximately twenty yards away. “Gun! There!” he called before ducking down and opening fire as bullets began whizzing past his head.

Napoleon was also returning fire from his position behind a tree. “There’s at least six shooters! We can’t hold them off for long!”

Reynolds shouted, “Maybe we should surrender before we’re all killed!”

A female voice responded from somewhere in front of them, “That sounds like a very good idea!”

“We are not surrendering, Reynolds!”

“Put your weapons down, Gentlemen. Yes, you are.” Both men whipped around to see Reynolds standing pointing a gun at Napoleon’s head. “You want to bet, Kuryakin, that you’re faster on the trigger than I am?” He smiled in satisfaction as the Russian reluctantly dropped his weapon. “Smart man. Solo, toss your gun this way.” After Napoleon complied, he boasted, “I will be Chairman of the Central Committee in less than a year when I bring them you two in a bag. I told them I could do it and now I have. A Halloween treat for us and a trick for you.”

Illya rolled his eyes and looked at his partner. “One day, we will be captured by a THRUSH who is _not_ a megalomaniac and I will not know how to react.”  

Smiling broadly at the Russian’s sarcasm, Reynolds yelled, “Everything is under control! You can come over now!”

Five people stepped out from behind their cover; Illya recognized the waitress from Dave’s Diner immediately. _No wonder she was so friendly._ His mind was racing as he thought about their options and knew Napoleon was doing the same. He stole a quick glance at his partner; his eyes clearly saying _We better think of something fast._

Their chance came a few seconds later when Reynolds took his eyes off Napoleon for a second to watch the THRUSH soldiers start come closer. Illya quickly grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into the fake defector’s face. They picked up their guns and started to run through the woods as shots were fired at them at the birds began their pursuit.

They burst out of the woods at one point onto a dirt road that looked oddly familiar to the Russian. They rounded a curve and he slammed to a stop as everything slammed into place in his mind. “Napoleon, stop!”

The CEA swung around to see Illya standing still staring at a tree approximately twenty yards in front of them. “What’s the matter? Those guys can’t be more than two minutes behind us! We have to go! Now!”

“Not that way! That is the tree from my dreams. We cannot go near it! This way. Hurry!”

With no time to argue, Napoleon ran in the direction Illya indicated. They could hear their pursuers approaching and when they saw a rather large boulder in their path, rather than continue making noise running, they hid behind it. They each activated the homing devices on their communicators and watched, hoping they would run past them. What happened next, they never told anyone.

The six THRUSHies came out of the woods almost in the exact place the UNCLE agents had. They glanced around briefly and the woman pointed down the path and declared, “They must have gone that way. Come on!”

They started jogging down the road past the tree when it suddenly came to life. Screaming a war cry that at first froze the birds in their tracks, it raised branches that were now acting as arms and smashed two of the men into the ground. Reynolds, the woman and the other two men panicked and tried to get away, but the tree warrior pulled its roots out of the ground and chased them down. Illya and Napoleon couldn’t see everything, but they had seen enough to know that they were the only human beings alive in the area. The last screams they heard had to belong to the female soldier, or at least, they hoped so.

When the echoes had died away, the only sound was of something very heavy moving along the path. The two agents cringed in terror when it seemed that the tree warrior ( _What else can it be?,_ Illya thought) stared through the trees to their hiding place. Thankfully, instead of coming after them, it backed up to its place, resettled its roots into the ground and turned back into what appeared to be a normal tree.

Napoleon exhaled quietly as he placed his hand on his partner’s back to steady the two of them. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he whispered.

“Da. We will stay in the woods until we can circle back to our car. There is no way I am getting on that road again.”

“Agreed. When we get out of the park, I’ll call UNCLE LA and let them know we do not need rescue and we are on our way. And, for once, I _want_ you to drive like a bat out of hell to the airport!”

Illya and Napoleon flew out hours later. They called an initial report into Mr. Waverly when they arrived in Los Angeles and caught the red-eye back to New York. They arrived at New York HQ and went immediately to their office to write up the mission report they agreed would be the final say on the matter.

As they expected, Mr. Waverly was not pleased with the affair’s outcome. “It ah, really couldn’t be helped, Sir. Mr. Reynolds‘ plan was to trap Illya and me and personally deliver us to Central Committee. He never intended to hand over his satrap’s information. We had no choice except to shoot to kill his soldiers. We wanted to capture him alive, of course, but he took a cyanide pill before we could stop him.”

Mr. Waverly sucked on his unlit pipe. “I see.” He looked at his Number Two agent. “Do you have anything to add, Mr. Kuryakin?”

“No, Sir.”

“Very well, then. Mr. Solo, your request for you and Mr. Kuryakin to have time off is granted. Report back to work on Monday. Dismissed.”

“Thank you, Sir,” the men responded in unison as they rose from their seats and exited.

That evening, both men sat in Napoleon’s living room with drinks in their hand as they tried to process the events of the last few days. “Do you think Mr. Waverly believed us?” the Russian asked.

“Yes. He knows that all agents editorialize their reports. If we had put all that stuff about a demon Indian warrior tree that you dreamed about, we wouldn’t be here. We’d be in the Psych Unit!” He drained his glass as the blond nodded agreement. “I for one, am glad you dreamt about it; otherwise, _we_ might have been the ones crushed by that tree.”

Illya reached for his bottle of vodka and refilled his glass. “I still do not understand how I was able to dream about any of that madness.”

“Neither do I, Tovarisch, but from now on, whenever you have a crazy dream or nightmare, tell me about it. It might just save our lives.”

Illya smiled and raised his drink. “It is a deal, moy droog.”

 

*Svetlana is an original character who owns a restaurant and treats Illya like a grandson.

         


End file.
